


the subject of your dreams

by lovelisles



Category: Ocean's (Movies), Ocean's 8, Ocean's Eight
Genre: F/F, it's disgusting, they're so in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 00:10:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15084779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelisles/pseuds/lovelisles
Summary: “So…”, the brunette starts, her gaze trained on Lou. “Turns out I have a diamond now”.“I’d say you have quite a few diamonds”, Lou teases back.“I’d say we do.” Debbie corrects, and Lou’s smile widens further than she imagined possible. Christ, she’s so fucking hers.





	the subject of your dreams

**Author's Note:**

> last time i wrote fanfiction i think i was around fourteen. however, these two simply won't leave my mind, so here goes nothing. hopefully it's enjoyable. :)

They fucking did it.

 

It’s not that Lou had doubted Debbie’s plan in any way. She knew better than to doubt anything that came from her partner at this point. When her mind was set on something, Debbie was relentless. It was simultaneously the backbone of her existence and the reason she was so infuriating.

 

Whatever Debbie Ocean was though, Lou was long used to it by now. Well, not used to. In love with. Which was frustrating to admit on so many levels, because love wasn’t something that happened to Lou. She was not one for relationships, nevermind romance. For someone who had a difficult time expressing her feelings and allowing herself a single moment of vulnerability, it was shocking just how much her walls had crumbled ever since the brunette had waltzed into her life. Debbie Ocean had made her way into her work, her bed and, finally, her heart. As fucking sappy as that sounds.

 

“God, I’m so whipped”, she’d thought, after accepting to be part of Debbie’s plan with barely no explanation. She could blame it on getting no sleep the previous night due to the prospect of seeing her partner again after so long. Or on the vodka, she could definitely blame it on the vodka, but who was Lou kidding?

 

It was the way Debbie was grinning confidently at her because finally, _finally_ she was running another heist -- the _perfect_ heist, as she’d put it. It was the way she effortlessly called her “baby”, making promises about diamonds. It was Debbie. And she couldn’t say no to Debbie. Which is why Lou had agreed to rob the fucking Met.

 

“God, I’m such an idiot”, she’d thought, after Debbie had played her like a violin and gone behind her back because of Claude fucking Becker. _Again_. “Such a fucking idiot”.

 

She hadn’t expected them to fall back into their partnership, or into each other’s beds, so effortlessly. She hadn’t expected all of her frustration and anger at Debbie’s betrayal -- feelings that had haunted her for five years -- to fade away the moment she set eyes on the brunette again. And she definitely, _definitely_ hadn’t expected Debbie would keep her in the dark to run her own little personal vendetta, causing all those feelings to resurface with full blown strength out of the blue.

 

At around 2AM that night, Debbie knocks on her door, whispering “Can we talk?”. Lou begrudgingly nods, gesturing for her to sit at the foot of the bed.

 

Debbie quietly avoids her gaze for a minute, gathering up the nerve to say something.

 

“Well?”, Lou urges, angry and tired of waiting.

 

Debbie sighs. “I’m sorry.”

 

Lou scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

 

“I am.”

 

Silence fills the air between them.

 

Debbie places a hand on top of Lou’s knee and the blonde’s gaze softens a little. Just a little.

 

“Look, I need you to believe me when I say I no longer feel nothing for this man aside from disgust.”

 

Lou rolls her eyes, laughing slightly and touching the tip of her tongue to the inside of her cheek.

 

“Why you ever felt anything aside from that is beyond me.”

 

Debbie grants her a small smile. “I deserve that.”

 

“Yes, you do.”, she adds, bitterly. Debbie doesn’t reply. They’re not going there right now. Not again.

 

“Baby, listen to me.”, Debbie pleads, making her way up the bed to straddle the blonde. Lou doesn’t look at her, choosing instead to stare at the ceiling. Debbie gently touches her jaw, directing Lou’s gaze towards her own. The moment their eyes meet, Deb smiles. Lou stubbornly suppresses a smile of her own.

 

“I’m listening.”, she concedes, finally losing her battle against her own face and Debbie takes advantage of the small victory to wrap Lou’s arms around her waist. The blonde doesn’t protest.

 

“I’ve got this, Lou. It's perfect. We’re not going down on this one.”

 

Lou desperately wants to believe her.

 

“You promise?”, Lou asks, her voice barely a whisper. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability, but she needs this. Needs to be reassured. Needs to know she won’t lose her again.

 

“I promise.”

 

Debbie presses a soft kiss to her lips, sweet and gentle, and Lou tightens her grip on the brunette’s waist, her thumb slightly lifting the back of her dress shirt to draw patterns on her skin.

 

As it turns out, Debbie was right. Of course she was. The plan _was_ perfect. They're millionaires. Which is why, when she opens the door to her room at 4AM on the night of the Met gala clad in blue sequins, Lou can’t seem to fight the smile off her face.

 

As Lou approaches her bed, though, her happiness makes way to confusion. Placed carefully on top of her pillow is a diamond. Not just any diamond, but what Lou quickly recognizes to be a small piece of the Toussant. Attached to it, a ring. It’s cut simply, nothing too extravagant. It’s beautiful, elegant and yet very Lou.

 

The blonde picks it up, examining the piece of jewelry. A smirk starts to form on her lips as she hears footsteps behind her. Once they stop, Lou turns around to find Debbie leaning against the doorframe, still clad in her gold party dress. Her blonde wig is long gone and brown locks cascade down her shoulders, framing her face which currently displays the smuggest smirk Lou has ever seen and her eyes are shining so bright, Lou thinks she might have stolen a few stars and placed them there. It wouldn’t be above Debbie anyway. She’ll steal anything. _God_ , she’s gone soft.

 

“So…”, the brunette starts, her gaze trained on Lou. “Turns out I have a diamond now”.

 

“I’d say you have quite a few diamonds”, Lou teases back.

 

“I’d say _we_ do.” Debbie corrects, and Lou’s smile widens further than she imagined possible. Christ, she’s so fucking _hers_.

 

They stare at each other for what feels like ages, having a conversation with their eyes.

 

“What do you say?”, Debbie finally asks.

 

Lou holds the ring up, the piece of jewelry carefully placed between her thumb and index finger. Without breaking eye contact, she whispers, barely inaudible, “What do you think?”

 

Debbie’s gaze grows softer as Lou gently places the ring onto her finger, lifting her hand up in order to show the brunette how it looks.

 

Smirking, Debbie closes the distance between them, shutting the bedroom door with her foot and pulling the blonde towards her by the waist. And then they’re kissing, and Debbie’s hand is unzipping her jumpsuit and grasping her bare skin and Lou’s mind is lost in a haze because this is _them_. This is them _committing_ to something, which isn’t a concept they’re big on, but somehow it just fits, even after years of “let’s not put a label on it”, of “no strings attached”, of “on-again-off-again” and every other cliché in the book. It _fits_.

 

“You know, you still haven’t given me an answer…”, Debbie whispers against her lips, barely fighting off her smile as Lou makes quick work of unzipping her dress.

 

“You still haven’t asked me a proper question”

 

Lou breaks their kiss, breathless, as she slips the jumpsuit all the way off her body, letting it cascade down towards the floor. The weight of Debbie’s heavy, mesmerized gaze on her skin might just be one of her favorite feelings in the world. For a moment, Lou thinks about how she might be turning into one of those dumb lovestruck people she hates. Then she thinks that, as long as Debbie keeps looking at her like that, she doesn’t really mind what she turns into.

 

Lou takes the other woman’s hand in her own, leading the brunette towards her bed -- _their_ bed --, fully undressing Debbie and lying down next to her.

 

Debbie’s expression softens when Lou’s hand comes up to brush a strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. It lingers there, gently stroking her cheek and coming to rest on her lips.

 

They look into each other’s eyes, the reality of the situation settling in.

 

“Yes, Deborah.”

 

It’s a whisper. A soft, quiet moment.

 

And then it’s gone, and Debbie is on top of her in a heartbeat, pressing kisses to her skin while she makes her way down her body and Lou thinks that she’ll gladly be a sap for this woman for the rest of her fucking life.


End file.
